Afloat and Ashore, James Fenimore Cooper [romantic story to read TXT] 📗

which declared that none but heirs of the whole blood should inherit. Chloe met me in the door-way, and greeted me with one of her sweetest smiles, as she curtsied, and really looked as pleased as all my slaves did, at seeing their young master again. How they touched my heart, at times, by their manner of talking about " ole Masser, and ole Missus," always subjects of regret among negroes who had been well treated by them. Metaphysicians may reason as subtly as they can about the races and colours, and on the aptitude of the black to acquire, but no one can ever persuade me out of the belief of their extraordinary aptitude to love. As between themselves and their masters, their own children and those of the race to which they were subject, I have often seen instances which have partaken of the attachment of the dog to the human family; and cases in which the children of their masters have been preferred to those of their own flesh and blood, were of constant occurrence.

"I hope you been werry well, sah, Masser Mile," said Chloe, who had some extra refinement, as the growth of her position.

"Perfectly, my good girl, and I am glad to see you looking so well--you really are growing handsome, Chloe."

"Oh! Masser Mile---you so droll!--now you stay home, sah, long time?"

"I am afraid not, Chloe, but one never knows. Where shall I find my sister?"

"Miss Grace tell me come here, Masser Mile, and say she wish to see you in de family-room. She wait dere, now, some time."

"Thank you, Chloe; and do you see that no one interrupts us. I have not seen my sister for near a year."

"Sartain, sah; all as you say." Then the girl, whose face shone like a black bottle that had just been dipped in water, showed her brilliant teeth, from ear to ear, laughed outright, looked foolish, after which she looked earnest, when the secret burst out of her heart, in the melodious voice of a young negress, that did not know whether to laugh or to cry--"Where Neb, Masser Mile? what he do now; de fel -ler!"

"He will kiss you in ten minutes, Chloe; so put the best face on the matter you are able."

" Dat he wont--de sauce-box---Miss Grace teach me better dan dat ."

I waited to hear no more, but proceeded towards the triangular little room, with steps so hurried and yet so nervous, that I do not remember, ever before to have laid my hand on a lock in a manner so tremulous--I found myself obliged to pause, ere I could muster resolution to open the door, a hope coming over me that the impatience of Grace would save me the trouble, and that I should find her in my arms before I should be called on to exercise any more fortitude. All was still as death, however, within the room, and I opened the door, as if I expected to find one of the bodies I had formerly seen in its coffin, in this last abiding place above ground, of one dead. My sister was on the causeuse , literally unable to rise from debility and agitation. I shall not attempt to describe the shock her appearance gave me. I was prepared for a change, but not one that placed her, as my heart instantly announced, so near the grave!

Grace extended both arms, and I threw myself at her side, drew her within my embrace, and folded her to my heart, with the tenderness with which one would have embraced an infant. In this situation we both wept violently, and I am not ashamed to say that I sobbed like a child. I dare say five minutes passed in this way, without either of us speaking a word.

"A merciful and all gracious God be praised! You are restored to me in time, Miles!" murmured my sister, at length. "I was afraid it might be too late."

"Grace!--Grace!--What means this, love?--my precious, my only, my most dearly beloved sister, why do I find you thus?"

"Is it necessary to speak, Miles?--cannot you see?-- do you not see, and understand it all?"

The fervent pressure I gave my sister, announced how plainly I comprehended the whole history. That Grace could ever love, and forget, I did not believe; but, that her tenderness for Rupert--one whom I knew for so frivolous and selfish a being, should reduce her to this terrible state, I had not indeed foreseen as a thing possible. Little did I then understand how confidingly a woman loves, and how apt she is to endow the being of her choice with all the qualities se could wish him to possess. In the anguish of my soul I muttered, loud enough to be heard, "the heartless villain!"

Grace instantly rose from my arms. At that moment, she looked more like a creature of heaven, than one that was still connected with this wicked world. Her beauty could scarcely be called impaired, though I dreaded that she would be snatched away from me in the course of the interview; so frail and weak did it appear was her hold of life. In some respects I never saw her more lovely than she seemed on this very occasion. This was when the hectic of disease imparted to the sweetest and most saint-like eyes that were ever set in the human countenance, a species of holy illumination. Her countenance, now, was pale and colourless; however, and her look sorrowful and filled with reproach.

"Brother," she said, solemnly, "this must not be. It is not what God commands--it is not what I expected from you--what I have a right to expect from one whom I am assured loves me, though none other of earth can be said to do so."

"It is not easy, my sister, for a man to forget or forgive the wretch who has so long misled you--misled us all, and then turned to another, under the impulse of mere vanity."

"Miles, my kind and manly brother, listen to me," Grace rejoined, fervently pressing one of my hands in both of hers, and scarcely able to command herself, through alarm. "All thoughts of anger, of resentment, of pride even, must be forgotten. You owe it to my sex, to the dreadful imputations that might otherwise rest on my name--had I anything to reproach myself with as a woman. I could submit to any punishment; but surely, surely, it is not a sin so unpardonable to be unable to command the affections, that I deserve to have my name, after I shall be dead, mixed up with rumours connected with such a quarrel. You have lived as brothers, too--then there is good, excellent, truthful, pious Mr. Hardinge; who is yet my guardian, you know; and Lucy, dear, true-hearted, faithful Lucy--"

"Why is not dear, true-hearted, faithful Lucy, here, watching over you, Grace, at this very moment?" I demanded, huskily.

"She knows nothing of my situation--it is a secret, as well as its cause, from all but God, myself, and you. Ah! I knew it would be impossible to deceive your love, Miles! which has ever been to me, all that a sister could desire."

"And Lucy! how has her affection been deceived?--Has she too, eyes only for those she has recently learned to admire?"

"You do her injustice, brother. Lucy has not seen me, since the great change that I can myself see has come over me. Another time, I will tell you all. At present I can only say, that as soon as I had certain explanations with Rupert, I left town, and have studiously concealed from dear Lucy the state of my declining health. I write to her weekly, and get answers; everything passing between us as cheerfully, and apparently, as happily as ever. No, do not blame Lucy; who, I am certain, would quit everything and everybody to come to me, had she the smallest notion of the truth. On the contrary, I believe she thinks I would rather not have her at Clawbonny, just at this moment, much as she knows I love her; for, one of Lucy's observation and opportunities cannot but suspect the truth. Let me lie on your breast, brother; it wearies me to talk so much."

I sat holding this beloved sister in my arms, fully an hour, neither of us speaking. I was afraid of injuring her, by further excitement, and she was glad to take refuge in silence, from the feelings of maiden shame that could not be otherwise than mingled with such a dialogue. As my cheek leaned on her silken hair, I could see large tears rolling down the pallid cheeks; but the occasional pressure of the hands, told me how much she was gladdened by my presence. After some ten or fifteen minutes, the exhausted girl dropped into feverish and disturbed slumbers, that I would have remained motionless throughout the night to maintain. I am persuaded it was quite an hour before this scene terminated. Grace then arose, and said, with one of her most angelic smiles--

"You see how it is with me, Miles--feeble as an infant, and almost as troublesome. You must bear with me, for you will be my nurse. One promise I must have, dearest, before we leave this room."

"It is yours, my sister, let it be what it may; I can now refuse you nothing," said I, melted to feminine tenderness. "And yet, Grace, since you exact a promise, I have a mind to attach a condition."

"What condition, Miles, can you attach, that I will refuse? I consent to everything, without even knowing your wishes."

"Then I promise not to call Rupert to an account for his conduct---not to question him--nay, even not to reproach him," I rejoined, enlarging my pledges, as I saw by Grace's eyes that she exacted still more.

The last promise, however, appeared fully to satisfy her. She kissed my hand, and I felt hot tears falling on it.

"Now name your conditions, dearest brother," she said, after a little time taken to recover herself; "name them, and see how gladly I shall accept them all."

"I have but one--it is this. I must take the complete direction of the care of you--must have power to send for what physician I please, what friends I please, what advice or regimen I please!"

"Oh! Miles, you could not-- cannot think of sending for him !"

"Certainly not; his presence would drive me from the house. With that one exception, then, my condition is allowed?"

Grace made a sign of assent, and sunk on my bosom again, nearly exhausted with the scene through which she had just gone. I perceived it would not do to dwell any longer on the subject we had been alluding to, rather than discussing; and for another hour did I sit sustaining that beloved form, declining to speak, and commanding silence on her part. At the end of this second little sleep, Grace was more refreshed than she had been after her first troubled repose, and she declared herself able to walk to her room, where she wished to lie on her own bed until the hour of dinner. I summoned Chloe, and, together, we led the invalid to her chamber. As we threaded the long passages, my sister's head rested on my bosom, her eyes were turned affectionately upward to my face, and several times I